


A Sudden Burst of Femininitiy

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Femlock, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, M/M, Well sort of femlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, suddenly, without explanation, Sherlock Holmes wakes up as a woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sudden Burst of Femininitiy

**Author's Note:**

> Just a strange thought I had (don't take it more seriously than it should be). One-shot.

John was very peacefully reading the newspaper in his chair, fresh from his shower, quite content, when he heard something crash in the bedroom downstairs. And someone’s—a woman’s—scream. It was way too early for Sherlock to be distressing female clients. And yet…

“Sherlock, are you okay? I heard a scream,” John came to stand outside of his door.

“I’m fine, terrific in fact,” Sherlock said loudly from the inside.

“I heard a crash,” John said.

“Congratulations,” Sherlock said almost angrily.

“Your voice, it sounds a bit higher, are you sick?” John asked.

“No,” the response came a few seconds later.

“Open the door,” John demanded.

“I really don’t think that’d be the optimum solution right now.”

“Okay, your voice is a lot higher than it should be and you’re scaring me. Open up.”

John wasn’t sure whether he was regretful or thankful that his flatmate opened the door when he did. Sherlock had always been good looking. In fact he spent a great deal of his free time fantasizing about him. A not insignificant portion of those times having a wank that he desperately hoped Sherlock wouldn’t deduce the inspiration for. But this. This was…different.

“Say something, please, it’s killing me, watching you formulate your thoughts,” Sherlock said finally.

“You’re a woman,” John could come up with no other reaction.

“Your grasp of rudimentary gender biology is magnificent John, yes, I am a woman,” Sherlock huffed angrily.

“How did this possibly happen?” John asked.

“I DON’T KNOW, JOHN!” Sherlock snapped.

“Relax, I’m sure, I’m sure—“ John broke off and started laughing.

“What could possibly be amusing about this?” Sherlock asked.

“Your voice, it’s higher than mine,” John said, regaining his composure, “When you yelled. It didn’t have the same effect.”

“I’m still taller,” Sherlock snapped.

“Are you…you know…all the way…?” John asked awkwardly.

“It appears I do have a vagina John, yes, it’s not just my face that’s changed,” Sherlock sighed and went over to the living room to sit down in his chair.

“Didn’t wish upon a star did you?” John asked.

“Why would I want to be a woman? Women are tedious. No. Besides if I wanted that I wouldn’t wish. I’d go about it in a scientific way. No. I didn’t want this. I am a man, John. A man. With an X and a Y chromosome. I wonder if my DNA’s the same. This could be an opportunity for some excellent research. Yes. Research. Always a silver lining. John. We have to go to the lab. You have to vouch for me. John what are you looking at?” Sherlock asked.

“Sorry, it’s just, you’ve never had breasts before,” John cleared his throat, “Yes. Lab. Research. Very important.”

“Honestly John,” Sherlock facepalmed, “You hang out with so many women all the time I thought you’d be bored of it by now.”

“Shouldn’t we take you to a doctor or something, find a proper cure, I could examine you—or no that’s a bad idea I can’t do that anymore we could take you to Sarah—“ John said.

“I’m fine, John, besides, this is the opportunity of a lifetime,” Sherlock said, “And if anyone’s going to examine me it’s still going to be you. Breasts or no.”

John sighed. Breasts or no. Then dashed after his madman. No. Madwoman.

***

“Well you’ve successfully shocked Molly Hooper, Mrs. Hudson, all of New Scotland Yard. Anyone else you want to see?” John asked sarcastically as they arrived home that night.

“My brother. No. He already knows.” Sherlock said.

“Right. So if we’re quite finished,” John said, “I’ll just be heading up then.”

“You were going to examine me.” Sherlock reminded him.

“No I wasn’t,” John countered.

“Oh come on, John, don’t be such a chicken, I thought it was naked men you were scared of not women,” Sherlock snapped.

“First of all, I’m a doctor, and therefore impartial, second of all, I was a soldier, I’m not scared,” John protested.

“Then do it,” Sherlock insisted, “Make sure there isn’t anything wrong with me. Any irregularities.”

John sighed. He had been doing a lot of that lately. He unbuttoned Sherlock’s shirt and handed it to him or her now really.

The strangely feminine face stared at him almost conspiratorially, “Go all the way,” then almost as an afterthought, “Captain.”

Damn him. Her. Them. Sherlock.

“Where did you even find a bra this morning Sherlock?” John asked.

“Lying around for ages, one of your ex-girlfriends, the one with the nose?” Sherlock unhooked it, and John suppressed the urge to look away. After all, he had seen Sherlock shirtless before, just not like this.

It was then that Sherlock leaned forward to kiss him, but he suddenly pulled back, “Don’t do that.”

“Oh for god’s sake John, this is perfect, you’ve been squeamish for years because I was a man, and now that I’m not you still won’t touch me. Ridiculous.”

“You did this?”

“No of course not, but now that it’s done we might as well take advantage of it.”

“Well I don’t want to.” John said.

“Why ever not? You’re not gay remember. Now you don’t have to be.”

“I don’t want you to think—I don’t want you to think that I only had you because you were a woman.” John said.

“What the hell, John?” Sherlock asked.

“I wanted you before too, like that, before this, and I can’t kiss you like this because that’ll mean…”

“You didn't want me before…” the truth dawned on Sherlock, “The real me. Are you in love with me, John?”

“Yes, and since this might be one of my only chances to say this I will say it, you are such a bitch sometimes, but I do love you, Sherlock, machine, human, man, woman, doesn’t matter.”

“Well, as long as it doesn’t matter…” Sherlock leaned forward to kiss him and this time he didn’t draw back.

In the morning when they woke up in Sherlock’s bed he was a man. The strange one day phenomenon had left no traces. An ordinary man would have been frightened. But this was John Watson of the fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. It was fine. It was all fine. And it didn’t matter.


End file.
